


Right Hand Man's Right Hand Plan for the Leader of the Clan

by Starveined



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Biting, Fluff, Hickeys, Light Masochism, M/M, Married Couple, Petition to Start Calling Reg "Mustache Twink", Smut, and disgustingly in love, handjobs, they're happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starveined/pseuds/Starveined
Summary: After being the target of uncountably many awful puns, Right decides to take matters into his own hands. (Well, just one hand, actually.)
Relationships: Copperright - Relationship, Reginald Copperbottom/Right Hand Man
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	Right Hand Man's Right Hand Plan for the Leader of the Clan

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really proud of the title okay, please just let me have this I beg of you.

The amount of times Right had gotten sickeningly amused looks from the other clanmembers and had some sort of “Oh, you sure are his _right hand man_ alright” comment thrown at him was obscene. They were all so proud of themselves every single time, as if they’d just made the best joke in the history of language.

There were some distinct problems with this situation. For one, just, what the hell; he was the second in command and underlings that he didn’t even know the names of shouldn’t be able to talk to him like that. Again and again, though, the comments would prevent him from biting any heads off by way of making him freeze out of some kind of shock-embarrassment combo that was getting really old at this point.

The main issue he took with all of the statements, however, was the plain inaccuracy of them. Right, despite every pun that could ever be possibly conceived, was left-handed. So, in reality, he most certainly would not be using his right hand to do anything illicit other than to clock an unfortunately placed idiot in the face that’d pushed him one too many times.

And, it seemed today would be that day. He saw a repeat offender approaching, and narrowed his eyes. He did know this one’s name at least, but it made little difference. When they’d come close enough to be heard without shouting, they delivered the same one-liner exactly as expected, so this time Right was prepared. Tragically, however, something in him decided that it didn’t feel like having bruised knuckles all night and he knew he’d feel quite a bit of guilt over it later, so his rebuttal went quite different then planned.

“Oi fuckwit! One more time an’ you’ll be on ya knees pickin ya teeth up off the floor!”

The clanmember froze and turned their head to look at him, seeming somewhere between afraid and struggling to hold back laughter. Right cursed himself for always turning so much more Australian when he was mad, but kept his face locked in a glare harsh enough to draw blood. It worked, and his assailant retreated to leave him in peaceful silence.

It was getting late now, just under an hour left until midnight. He was tired, but not to a point where it was incapacitating him. With a sigh, he pulled his hat down over his eyes, leaned against the wall, and allowed himself a moment to bask in his long overdue victory. His mind quickly wandered, though, and he didn’t bother trying to stop it when he realized where it was going. Where was Reg right now? They hadn’t seen each other for a few hours, and by Right’s standards that was enough to cause discomfort. Even if they weren’t interacting directly, they were almost always together. Right had to protect his leader, after all; it was what he’d dedicated his life to many years ago and something that he’d never felt a second of regret over.

Knowing him as well as he did, there were four locations that Reginald was likely to be right now. Firstly he could be up in the cockpit, piloting the airship in the darkness to relax or keep distracted. They had plenty of pilots that were ready to switch out at a moment’s notice and of course the autopilot function, but Reg still liked flying the ship even if he didn’t have to. Again relating to work, he could also be holed up in his office, hating his way through a pile of paperwork or just sitting in his chair as his mind wandered. Next he could be in the quarters they shared, maybe showering or reading. Finally he could be aimlessly wandering the airship, pacing through sparsely populated halls in an attempt to shake off nerves or calm his thoughts. 

Right straightened his posture with a sigh, and set off searching. And, to his delight, the first place he looked turned out successful. Reg was piloting the airship as he’d first imagined, eyes looking very dull as he gazed out into the black of the night. The leader looked to be so lost within himself that Right had to give a low greeting in order to get any attention despite having come up to stand in his line of sight. It worked like a charm, though, Reginald’s eyes resparking as he quickly switched the ship to autopilot and practically leaped from the seat directly into Right’s arms.

He caught him without a hitch, one arm tightly locking around his back and the other moving to grip the back of Reg’s neck as Right leaned in to nuzzle and breathe deeply into his hair. “Missed you,” he breathed against the leader’s ear when he felt his husband’s arms coil around him and tightly squeeze. 

“And I you,” Reginald whispered back, sighing against his shoulder as if an immense burden had been lifted.

And it had. Together, they were so much more than they were apart. Reginald gained stability, confidence, and peace of mind; while Right gained perspective, direction, and a reason to smile. Side by side they had taken down armies and surpassed the insurmountable. Alone, they’d both have been dead many years ago. And, knowing that Reginald existed, Right couldn’t bear the thought of not existing too.

He pulled back a bit to kiss him, briefly but firmly, however was not allowed to pull away when he’d intended. Reg’s arms moved up to wrap around his neck and he lifted one of his legs to press a knee against Right’s hip. He went to gently grab the wandering leg so Reg didn’t have to hold it there, not at all complaining. With their bodies flush together and the taste of his husband thick in his mouth, Right couldn’t help but feel his relief at having been reunited start to manifest in a different manner. He didn’t want to ruin this, though, so he tried to maintain a bit of subtlety.

He gently broke their kiss and started to trail his mouth along Reg’s jaw, soon dipping down to latch onto the side of his neck. He got a small gasp and arms dropping to clutch at his back in response, the reaction encouraging him to be rougher. Two sharp canines pressed against the delicate skin of Reginald’s neck, and Right growled softly as he swiped his tongue over what he had access to, relishing in the small whimper his partner subsequently dealt out.

Right had plans, many plans. He would back his husband up against a wall, run hands up and down his body, suck bruises onto his neck so the whole clan could see just how much he loved him. He’d make him breathless, leave him gasping and pleading to be undressed. And Right would do just that, look at the mess Reginald had made of himself; take him in his hands and in his mouth and then take him for _himself_. There had to be lube in here somewhere, and he’d locked the door on his way in, but nobody would be surprised if they wandered by and caught an earful in the first place. _Everybody_ knew, and that was just as Right would have it. Reg belonged to him and he belonged to Reg, forever and always. He wanted him so badly, and dug his teeth in further to communicate this, but a small voice wrenched him from his storm of thoughts.

“R-Right, a-ah, could we please… go to our room?”

Ah, yes. Right forced himself back to reason, pulling away and looking down at the clan’s leader. He was flushed, and just as breathtaking as ever, but of course their bed would be far more comfortable for him than a place like this.

“Of course,” he lowly responded, voice even huskier than normal. He held open one of his hands and one of Reginald’s much smaller ones was soon placed in his palm, so Right closed his fingers around it and led them out. He pulled out his radio to call for a backup pilot to come and watch over things, then forced his thoughts to flock to nowhere but Reginald. 

It was a short walk from the cockpit to their quarters; all of the luxury living spaces were near the front of the ship and they of course shared the most extravagant one there was. Right put a hand on Reginald’s lower back to gently nudge him in the door, then stepped inside after him and carefully secured all three of the door’s locks. Reg had always been afraid of sleeping, convinced that someone would try to take him out while vulnerable, but Right had taken multiple measures to lessen this fear. The extra locks, sure, but mostly never letting him sleep alone.

Right wasted no time after that before undoing the holsters he wore around his legs; carrying everything he needed to protect and defend when they weren’t in safe spaces such as this. Once done he turned around just in time to see Reginald disappear into their bedroom, swiftly following to see that his husband was already sitting on their bed, pulling off his boots and gloves before starting to work on the buttons of his tailcoat. Right jumped in to help after discarding his own shoes, getting him out of the extravagant garment and then hats, neck ruffle, and necklace before finally making it to the line of buttons on the plain grey dress shirt he wore under everything else. Reg took his fashion choices very seriously, but Right thought he looked perfect no matter what he wore- including, of course, if that was nothing.

Reginald’s breathing was heavy as his bare chest was exposed to the air of the room; so Right was quick to get the shirt off and, of course, fold it neatly to set aside. Next, he only took the time to remove his own hat before getting lost in the sight before him, desire already hitting him hard. He pounced moments later, two strong hands clutching at either side of Reginald’s ribcage and pushing him down onto his back with both speed and gentleness before a mouth came to attack his chest, anything but gentle. Right nibbled and sucked and kissed at the smooth skin of his husband’s upper abdomen, feeling starved of him. He got whines and quiet words of pleading in response, feeling nails dig into his back through his clothes and legs press at his hips.

Right could have kept going like this; smothering Reginald’s body with attention in every place except where he really needed it until he was being tearfully begged for relief, but he didn’t have the patience, not now. A hand trailed down the leader’s body until it could cup the area between his legs, lightly massaging against the firmness it found. Reg immediately canted his hips up into the touch, purring thankful encouragement around a shaky breath. Right pressed harder, and leaned down to swallow Reginald’s noise with a kiss. Despite the fact that he wasn’t being touched at all, Right took so much pleasure in gratifying his companion that he didn’t care. He was straining at the zipper of his pants, but paid mind only to the one that was in between him and Reg.

After defeating it alongside a few buttons, he only had to ease down a layer of soft fabric and finally a thin barrier of black lace before he found what he was looking for. The look that Reg gave him when a hand wrapped around his cock was plenty to crumble what remained of Right’s inner clarity, but he resisted and instead glanced down from his husband’s flushed face to watch as a drop of fluid welled at the tip of him. Right pressed a thumb into it and rubbed tight circles into the sensitive flesh beneath, getting exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Reg’s hands flew down to tightly grip his forearm, a gasp and involuntary tremble accompanying the action. 

Right reached up with his free hand to cup the side of his lover’s face while he dragged the other one down his length, but something from within made him halt. No. No, not now. Of all the times to be plagued by the clan’s worst running joke, in the middle of making love to his husband had to be just about the worst. He took a deep breath as there was, clearly, only one way out of this situation; to face it head on. He took his hand away from Reginald, and got a look of dazed confusion in response, but disguised his intentions by bringing it up to his companion’s lips. Reg smiled a bit, a pant escaping him as he obeyed and began to shyly lick his own precm away from Right’s fingers. While he was occupied with that, Right took the other hand away from Reg’s face and instead brought it down to continue stimulating him. Even with how strange it immediately felt to be using his… _right_ hand for a task as important as this, the moan around the two of his fingers that Reginald had taken to sucking on was plenty to ground him.

Right slowly dragged his left hand down from Reg’s face, fingers leaving a glistening trail of the leader’s own saliva on his lower lip and chin. And that was enough. Right forgot about his hands, letting instinct take over in moving the one between them and the other swiftly finding purchase on the side of Reginald’s neck as he dove in to kiss his partner again, far more roughly this time. Reg squirmed beneath him, arms reaching up to his back where nails dug into fabric again. Right thought sadly for a moment about how wonderful the sting would feel if he were equally bare of clothing, but there was no way he was going to delay his husband the pleasure he oh so deserved for even another second.

Right gripped him harder on an upward stroke, breaking away from their mess of a kiss to hear the cry he got in response. He wanted more, so he traveled down just slightly to his love’s neck, observing the slight bruise that had formed there from his earlier actions in the front of the ship. A primal desire shot through his body at the sight, so he dove in and roughly sucked on the abused flesh, practically earning a shriek as reward. Right growled into Reginald’s neck and began to stroke him faster, the further fluid that he had started to leak providing sufficient enough lubrication. As predicted, Reg got louder, and Right was on the verge of losing it. He wanted so badly to rip himself free of his clothing so he could thrust their lengths together, or better yet to relinquish all control, grab Reginald’s body, and roughly fuck him into the bed until neither of them could breathe. But, no. He held on. His own relief would come in time, but right now his husband was getting his full and undivided attention.

There was a certain thrill, a taboo feeling of excitement that came with the concept of others seeing the hickeys on Reg’s neck as he gave instructions or a tastefully aloof greeting; shamelessly exposing that he was far more than the clan’s capable leader behind closed doors. But, for different reasons, marks in places more private held even more value. They were a secret, an intimate pact between him and Reg alone that attested to their loyalty and love. Right would create them, and Right would be the only person allowed to watch as they faded back into obscurity against Reginald’s unremitting beauty.

So it was with purpose that he broke away from his partner’s neck to dip back down to his chest, and attacked with tooth and tongue. He was rough, growls crawling up his throat each time he moved on to a new place of untarnished skin. Right made a point to create powerful enough suction to be sure that bruises would form without too much time dedicated to any one spot and dug his teeth in until red imprints were left behind but _never_ enough to draw blood. This treatment would surely hurt to whoever was on the receiving end of it, but Right knew from years upon years of experience that Reg wouldn’t have it any other way. He could hear it, too; and feel it. Reginald’s hips were twitching up into the movement of his hand, and he had started to shrilly pant a single word over and over; his name. Two hands had come to be buried in his hair as well, nails digging into his scalp and the pressing of palms starting to undo the delicate little braids that Reg himself had oh so precisely put in Right’s hair that morning. They’d trailed back and combined into a bigger braid that then wrapped around a tastefully messy bun, but now Right’s long fiery locks were just as much of a disaster as he felt like.

He looked up at Reg for a moment, and even through the many strands of orange obscuring his vision, could recognize that expression from lightyears away. Right disconnected from his chest with a labored breath, darted up again, and lightly pressed his teeth around Reginald’s collarbone in time with a particularly violent movement of his hand. He halted all motion after that, because he knew exactly how Reg liked to be treated. The leader’s body contorted under him and he fell silent for a moment, only to lose it soon after and let out a noise just as unsteady as he’d become, trembling under Right’s touch. He’d started moving his hand again now, though far more gently and broke away to look at Reginald’s face through his climax; a sight he’d enjoyed countless times before.

It was gorgeous. Right leaned in and kissed his forehead, burying his free hand in the leader’s equally messy hair and breathing in the scent of it. Reg was calming, now, breaths growing even and hands loosening their grip. He might have lost track of time, even, because Reginald had to quietly ask to be able to sit up. Right grunted and lifted himself onto his knees, taking a moment to admire the scene before him. Reg had made a mess of Right’s shirt and of his own body, and while they both looked wonderful like that, Right couldn’t resist the urge to swipe some of the glistening fluid up from his husband’s stomach and thumb it into his mouth. Reginald huffed, flustered, as he struggled into a sitting position and looked up at Right.

Now, with the prettiest pair of eyes in the world on him, Right was feeling a little lost. “...Love you,” he tried.

The other sincerely recited the phrase back, but even that wasn’t enough to chase off Right’s nervousness. “Did I, ah… do good?” he quietly asked after a moment, finally moving his right hand away from where it had been carrying the weight of his plan to please.

Reginald looked a little confused at the question, and for good reason because it was quite unusual coming from him. “Yes, obviously.” The leader leaned forward more, getting onto his knees and bringing his hands to the buttons on Right’s shirt. “Now, what’s with all of these clothes still on you? I don’t like that one bit.”

Right took a moment to feel relieved that his performance had been up to standards, then had to bite back a groan as familiar hands ran down his now exposed chest all the way to the top of his pants. From there they cupped the very obvious issue he had, a thumb coming to press at the small wet spot that had formed. Right could have felt embarrassed at how disheveled he’d gotten, but that would have been quite the waste of time when he could instead focus in on the perfect man before him.

“Poor thing,” Reg murmured, slowly undoing the button and zipper of his pants. “Can I help you out with this?” Two hands lovingly extracted Right’s cock from his clothing at long last and slowly massaged up and down the length of it.

Right couldn’t do anything but nod, for if he opened his mouth Reg would be getting one hell of an earful.

“Good,” Reginald purred, ducking in to kiss at his jaw. “I’ll let you use me however you like.”

Right let go after the permission, one hand snapping up to firmly grip Reg around an upper arm and the other pressing to the side of his face. “...Can ya start by using that pretty mouth’a yours?” he rasped, tracing a thumb over his husband’s lower lip.

Reg smiled, eyes half lidded, and let the warmth of his breath billow out over Right’s abdomen as he began to lower himself. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Took forever, as per usual. Ah well. I'm done with the quarter now though so production should be speeding up. Next will be more Stickvin; very depressing edition.


End file.
